


The Killer Canadian

by ryfkah



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryfkah/pseuds/ryfkah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a confusing day at the precinct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Killer Canadian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aphrodite_mine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/gifts).



“Act fast, Sarge!” A cell phone came flying at Terry's head; he put up a hand automatically to catch it, and then aimed a lowering glare in the direction of its owner. Peralta, undaunted, beamed. “Photo op with the perp of the week!”

Gina booed from her desk. “Selfie or nothing!”

“Yeah, well, I tried,” protested Peralta, as Terry flipped through the camera reel on the phone. Blurry picture of Peralta's thumb, blurry picture of the ground, blurry picture of Peralta screaming in agony....

The perp shrugged. “Be less of a prick, don't get kicked.”

“Wise words,” said Gina, and stretched. “I like her, Jakey. She's a keeper.”

“Yeah, well, given the rap sheet they sent us from Toronto, they'll be keeping her for about ten to twenty. OK, Sarge, you got the photo? Can you text it to Santiago with the message I GOT HER FIRST, SUCK ON --”

“I got her!” Santiago marched triumphantly into the precinct, towing a woman behind her. “Suck on this, Peralta! You owe me –”

She stopped short, and stared. 

Peralta stared back. 

Well, if Terry had to admit it, he was also staring. There was a lot of staring going around the precinct in general. 

“Oh, no, no, no,” said Santiago, faintly. “Oh, no. The Killer Canadian is _twins_?”

Peralta shook his head, eyes crossing, and then focused again on Santiago. He pointed a dramatic finger on her. “Oh ho ho, Santiago! Looks like you've arrested an innocent woman?”

“You don't know that!” Santiago protested. “Mine could be the real perp!”

Peralta smirked. “Look at my perp. Now back to yours. Now back to my perp, now back to yours. Sadly, your perp is just a random woman from the suburbs, but if she wasn't doing such a spot-on Martha Stewart impression, it's possible that she could be the real Killer Canadian –”

“Stereotyping much?” snapped Peralta's perp.

“It sounds sensible to me,” said Santiago's perp, primly.

“And that's just what you _would_ say,” said Santiago, doggedly. “Come on, Alison, fess up! Your tidy and logical mind and extreme awareness of appropriate behavior give you a fiendish advantage in the world of crime, don't they!”

“Awwwww,” cooed Gina. “Who knew Santiago cherished a secret dream of becoming a criminal mastermind?”

Santiago flushed. “Uh, I wasn't talking about me.”

“Weren't you, though?”

“Anyway,” said Peralta, “I _also_ got here first with my perp, which means I'm winning at least temporarily until we ID the real Killer Canadian. Although my perp is totally the real Killer Canadian.”

“That's not fair! I could have been back here like an hour ago, except that I had to help Alison fold her laundry.”

Alison grimaced. “Knowing all those shirts were still sitting in the dryer getting wrinkled would have been just – the icing on this entire cake of horrible, so … thank you for that.”

“See? I couldn't do that to her. It would have been cruel and unusual punishment!”

“Wow,” said Peralta, “I think Santiago's maybe found a soulmate?”

At this point, Terry decided that the entertainment had gone on long enough. “Kids,” he said, soothingly. “You both did good. Would have been better if Peralta didn't actually get himself kicked in the balls by his perp --”

Peralta's perp looked serene. 

“-- but you did good. Now let's take both these ladies back into interrogation and --” 

“Suck on this, Peralta!” Diaz crowed, dragging a woman behind her. Then she stopped dead, setting off another champion round of staring.

“...Triplets?” said Santiago, faintly.

“Cosima!” snapped Alison. “Come on. Were you even _trying_ not to get arrested?”

“Yes!” protested Cosima, glanced at Rosa, and flushed beet red, which, to be fair, was a reaction a lot of people tended to have around Rosa. 

Jake's perp just started to laugh. 

“...take all _three_ of these ladies back into interrogation,” growled Terry, “and see if we can figure out what the hell is going on here.”

“Good luck,” said Jake's perp, still snorting with laughter. 

Terry was starting to have a sinking feeling that they were going to need it. 

[](http://s1305.photobucket.com/user/ryfkah/media/aclonedayattheprecinct_zps34cd9c80.jpg.html)


End file.
